


Tasers and Lasers

by American_Oddysey



Category: Madness Combat, Madness: Project Nexus, Madness: Project Nexus 2
Genre: Gunplay, Humiliation, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 04:55:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/American_Oddysey/pseuds/American_Oddysey
Summary: The lasers are DICKS.





	Tasers and Lasers

They didn’t take many people captive. Hank didn’t like to, and because of Deimos the three of them didn’t need much information that they didn’t already have. However, this one was being a bit troublesome. Hank didn’t want to participate. Interrogation wasn’t his thing, especially since it was the Sheriff. If Sanford and Deimos had let him in, the cowboy’s face would be a bloody pulp within a minute. He knew that couldn’t happen, so he stood outside the door, leaning against the wall beside it, listening in. 

Five hours.

Five hours of this had passed before a tired-looking Deimos stepped outside of the room, taking his visor off and placing his hands on his face. “What the fuck is wrong with this guy?” His voice was muffled from behind his hands. 

Sanford soon followed, sighing. “He doesn’t listen to either of us, he’s expecting us to gut him like a pig.”

“He’s fucking nuts.” Deimos interjected. “Listen, Hank? I don’t fucking care if you kill him at this point, it might take me a while to get into the Nexus itself but we don’t fucking need him.”

Sanford shot Deimos a dirty look. “Don’t kill him. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“How were you interrogating him?” Hank looks from the inside of the broom closet-sized room to Sanford. 

“Well-” Sanford stopped himself. “You’re suggesting torture?”

“Maybe,” Hank shrugs. “Nothing too bad, do we have a stun gun?”

“I can find one.” Deimos says quickly, running off to go get it.

“Good.” Hank looked up at Sanford. “I need you in there, just in case.”

“This better work.” Sanford crossed his arms as his frown deepened.

“And if it doesn’t?” Deimos had returned at this point, handing off the weapon to Hank. 

Sanford stayed quiet. There wasn’t anything he could really do to Hank and they both knew it. Hank stepped inside the small room, Sanford following. 

“Howdy.” Hank spun the taser around in his hand, staring down at the cowboy who was currently bound to a cheap, wooden chair.

The Sheriff let out a dry laugh. “So ya brought tha big man himself ta deal with me?” He grinned, glaring at Sanford. “Where’d yer boyfriend go? ‘Fraid’a the sight’a blood?”

Sanford glared back at the Sheriff. Hank snorted, which earned him a glare from Sanford as well. 

“Alright, might as well get this over with then,” Hank stepped closer to the Sheriff. “Just tell me the passcode and we’ll let you go.” He flicked the taser on, sparks jumping from electrode to electrode. 

“It ain’t happenin’, darlin’.” The Sheriff scoffed. “You can do what ya want’a me, I ain’t tellin’.”

Hank didn’t hesitate slamming the stun gun down on the Sheriff’s shoulder. The cowboy let out a loud yelp as the electricity reacted to his skin, his body tensing against the restraints Sanford had put on him. Hank grinned and pulled the gun back, readying to slam it back down again before his wrist was pulled back by Sanford. 

Hank glanced back at Sanford, who merely shook his head in disappointment. Hank cleared his throat, standing up straight and composing himself. “There will be more where that came from if we don’t get what we want.”

The Sheriff panted softly, then snarled. “What the fuck do ya think yer doing? Like I’m gonna tell ya after tha-” He was cut off by the gun being pushed into his neck. This went on for a bit before the Sheriff let out a whimper. “Fine, fine, just get yer dog outta here..”

Hank nodded towards Sanford, who gave Hank a concerned look before leaving the room. Hank turned the taser off, placing it on his belt next to his other guns. “He’s going to know what you say whether he’s here or not, I hope you know that.”

“I assumed so,” The Sheriff had his gaze fixed on the ground.

“Look at me when you talk.” Hank frowns.

“No, yer gettin’ the answer so it don’t matter if I look at ya or not.” 

Hank followed the Sheriff’s gaze, then let out a stifled laugh. “You’re into this?” Hank placed his foot between the Sheriff’s legs, agonizingly close to what the Sheriff tried to hide from him.

“Shut yer fuckin’ mouth.” The Sheriff spit out, but was taken aback by Hank’s open hand striking him, his hat falling off in the process. It ached.

“Masochism, huh?” Hank’s tone became smug. “Or is it just because it’s me?”

The Sheriff ground his teeth, this didn’t help.

“Listen,” Hank pulled a knife from his belt. “We can cut this interrogation short, have some fun, and you’ll tell Sanford and Deimos that passcode tomorrow without any argument, alright?” He slid the point across the cowboy’s cheekbone, drawing a sliver of blood. 

The Sheriff closed his eyes, not able to look into those shades. “Ye-yeah..”

“Glad we could come to a compromise.” Hank stepped back, kneeling and cutting off the ropes binding the Sheriff’s legs to the chair. The chair was taken out from under the Sheriff. “On your knees.”

With a lot of struggling and no help from Hank, the Sheriff got onto his knees, his hands still behind his back, and his face laying uncomfortably on the concrete floor. Hank pressed himself against the Sheriff, leaning over him and reaching around for the Sheriff’s belt buckle, slowly undoing it and pulling the Sheriff’s pants down. The Sheriff sucked in a breath as the cool air made contact with his cock. Hank pulled away, chuckling.

“You’re disgusting.” The Sheriff heard the cocking of a gun and felt his life flash before his eyes. Not again. Not under these circumstances. There was no way Hank would keep quiet about something like this. Just as the Sheriff was about to beg for his life, Hank gave a somewhat gentle caress to the Sheriff’s hip. “Relax, it’s not going to kill you.” Hank mumbled. “Unless I fuck up, but that doesn’t normally happen,” he chuckled quietly. “I’m just making things a bit more… thrilling.”

Cool metal bit into the Sheriff’s skin and he gasped, trying to get a look behind him but to no avail. He knew what it was, but he had to make sure. “That-that’s a…”

“Yep.” Hank hummed, pushing the barrel of the revolver a bit more into the tight ring of muscles.

The Sheriff wanted to say something,  _ anything _ in protest, but as the gun slipped in, he could only let out a pained groan. 

“Nothing?” The Sheriff felt Hank’s hand leave his hip and the sound of a zipper. “Thought you’d say something like ‘oh you psychopath,’ or ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ This is a bit disappointing. I’m not used to being the one doing most of the talking.” The Sheriff bit his bottom lip as Hank moved the gun slowly. 

“Fuck… fuck you…” The Sheriff hissed, though malice was the last thing in his voice.

“Well I believe I’m going to be fucking you. Is that close enough?” Hank moved the gun deeper, earning a long groan from the Sheriff. “Honestly, I didn’t think it was gonna fit,” he mumbled, stopping. “The gun. But I’m thinking you must get a lot of cock back in Nexus City, huh?” The Sheriff whimpered, rocking his hips back in forth, desperate for more friction. “You’re Phobos’s whore, right?” Hank pulled the gun out.

“N-no..” The Sheriff whined, whether that was a response to the question or to the action, even he didn’t know.

“I think you’re lying to me.” Hank leaned over the Sheriff again, wrapping a hand around the back of the cowboy’s neck. The Sheriff could feel Hank pressed against him. “Probably the only reason he’d keep a coward like you…” Hank muttered into the Sheriff’s ear, giving it a bite after. The Sheriff ground back against Hank’s cock, trying to get something out of Hank that wasn’t constant beration. 

Hank let out a small groan, grinding back a bit before pulling away. The tightness around the Sheriff’s wrists fell away and he could feel Hank positioning himself. The Sheriff pushed himself up so he was on his hands and knees.

“Ready?” 

The Sheriff didn’t expect that, but gave a nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be…” He said quietly.

Hank pushed in slowly, gripping the Sheriff’s hips tightly.

A string of expletives left the Sheriff’s mouth as the burning pain hit him.

Hank stopped, waiting for the Sheriff to recover.

“Why are you caring now…?” The cowboy panted out after a few moments.

Hank opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t know.” The two of them kept silent for a few moments, waiting for the other to say something.

“... Keep going…” The Sheriff mumbled.

Hank did as he was told, pushing in the rest of the way, letting out a low groan, which the Sheriff matched, tensing up around Hank. Hank waited a moment before moving slowly, leaning over the Sheriff and slipping his hands under the padded vest and the button-up underneath it.

“Jesus Christ, Hank..” The Sheriff breathed out. 

“Mmh?” The masked man hummed, pressing his face against the Sheriff’s back and taking in his scent.

“Feels.. So fuckin’ good…” The Sheriff moves his hips, grinding back against Hank, but then pulling off, turning to face Hank. “Let me see you…” 

Hank flinched back as the Sheriff reached for his shades. “I can’t.”

The Sheriff pulled back. “... Alright.” He lowered his hands to Hank’s shoulders.

“Keep going?” Hank gripped the Sheriff’s hips. The other nodded. Hank pushed back in, the Sheriff rolling his hips into Hank’s. The Sheriff’s arms wrapped around Hank’s neck, he gripped Hank’s trenchcoat tightly in his fist as he got closer to climax. His hands quickly slipped up to Hank’s face, lowering the facemask just enough to see his mouth before the Sheriff kissed him.

Hank was taken aback but didn’t stop, as he felt the Sheriff tighten around him, he felt himself too, come to climax.

A few moments pass before Hank removed the Sheriff’s hands from his face. He pulled out and frowned, looking at his now soiled trenchcoat.

The Sheriff awkwardly shuffled off of Hank’s lap, saying nothing.

Hank tucked himself back in his pants, then got up, taking off his trenchcoat. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll do the same thing I did to you sixteen years ago.”

The Sheriff nodded. “Got it…”

Hank stared the Sheriff down before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

 


End file.
